31
Royal flush
M r. Huang was dressed in a very ostentatious manner.
Wearing a very striking Dolce I like taking risks. If no one else minds, I suggest a single game where we go all in."
Julio Sanchís let out a despotic laugh.
"Are you laughing at something or did you swallow a clown?"
"Women and their haste," he remarked, flipping a chip in the air. "I bet if she were shopping, she wouldn't be in such a rush," he added jokingly. His sexist joke grated on my nerves.
"Do you think you know me well enough to comment? Or is it fear of losing to a woman that I smell?"
"You must be smelling something else," he laughed heartily. "Women don't scare me." My husband's expression was that of a dog ready to attack.
"Then, you won't mind accepting my proposal, a single game where we go all in."
The businessman looked to the soccer player, who had been watching the roulette more than the table, hoping to find an ally to refuse the offer.
"I'm good with that," the soccer player chimed in with quite decent Spanglish.
Huang raised his hands, giving the go-ahead.
"What will it be, Sanchís? Lion or lamb?" His hand trembled.
"Alright, let's go all in," he agreed reluctantly.
Huang gestured to the dealer to unseal the deck in front of our eyes.
The goal was to achieve the best combination of five cards and beat the opponents. It was a game purely of tactics and strategy, not luck, as many believed.
I wasn’t bad at it. My father and brother liked to play after meals, almost as much as chess, and, of course, they included me in the games.
My father used to say that the game was like life. One must always look around, to see who is the fool in the game. When you couldn't spot the fool, it meant you were the fool, and I was no fool, but a damn lioness.
We were each dealt a pair of cards and the initial betting began.
"I’m in," Huang said after viewing his cards.
"I fold," the soccer player opted out.
"I’m in," the businessman stated with a cocky air.
"I raise the bet." Romeo surveyed all of us after examining his cards.
"And I match it," I declared fearlessly. The look in my husband’s eyes made my stomach tingle.
The dealer dealt the flop [4] for a second round of betting. I kept my expression neutral.
Huang passed, the soccer player folded, the businessman matched, R raised again, and I raised once more.
"Either you two are reckless or very lucky," Sanchís commented.
"As Phil Hellmuth said: 'Poker is 100% skill and 50% luck.' I don’t believe in luck, Mr. Sanchís."
"Nor do I believe in your skill." My husband feigned a move to smash his face into the table, but I stopped him, sliding my foot along his calf.
"With nonsense like that, you won't distract me," I informed him.
Players tend to try to make others nervous. What the businessman didn't know was that in poker, I had nerves of steel.
We reached the last hand with three players: R, Sanchís, and me. Huang had folded and was watching us placidly.
The businessman was sweating. Nonchalance was incompatible with the stains on his armpits.
"What's it going to be, Mr. Sanchís? Are you playing or jumping ship?"
"One of you two is bluffing," he accused. "Maybe even both of you."
"Maybe the liar is you," suggested my husband, making me smile.
"Either fold or show your cards," I prodded. "Don't prolong your agony."
"Straight flush," he revealed. Those weren't bad cards. My husband showed his and Sanchís confidently knocked over the chips. "I knew it! It was a damn bluff! Now, show yours, Mrs. Koroleva, I'm eager to celebrate the victory. Here, this chip is a gift for you," he said, tossing a plastic chip that I caught mid-air.
I flipped mine without taking my eyes off his face.
Huang clapped his hands on the table followed by a booming laugh. Sanchís turned pale.
"It’s impossible! She cheated! It can’t be!"
A beautiful royal flush unfolded before their eyes, filling the mat with red hearts.
"If you can't handle losing, you shouldn't play, nor make false accusations—it says a lot about you."
He looked at me with fury.
"It's impossible, that was just a stroke of luck. Let's bet again, I want to win my money back."
"I'm sorry, it will have to be at another table and with other players. I made a deal with Mr. Huang."
The man lunged for the chips with bulging eyes.
"You can't take my money! I demand a rematch!" I looked at him with disdain; I dislike sore losers.
"I've already told you no, I'm sorry." I stood up, ignoring him, the owner of the place already knew who had won the round and that mountain was of plastic. I recognized in him a deranged gambler. "I'll give you a piece of advice: in life, you either win or learn. You never lose. Today you underestimated your opponent and bet more than you should have. Keep that lesson."
"No way! I can't go back home with just that!"
"That's not my problem."
My husband pulled back the chair for me to leave comfortably when the click of a gun's safety made me turn my head. Sanchís was raising a small Beretta that caught us by surprise.
Andrey rushed him with the speed and efficiency that characterized him. In two moves, he had disarmed him and dislocated several bones in his hand.
The businessman's screams caught the attention of the other players.
With a nod, Huang asked his men to take him away and told the others to continue their games.
"My apologies, Mrs. Koroleva, some people don't understand where the line is."
"I'm glad to hear you do and that you're a man of your word."
The smile pushed his thin lips, and he asked us to follow him.
Once inside the office, R didn't want to beat around the bush.
"Why were our bikes blown up?" With the sunglasses, I couldn't see the expression that was roaming Huang's eyes.
"Your bikes?"
Andrey and Aleksa were in one corner of the office, and the Chinese men in the other.
"You heard me."
"We had nothing to do with it."
"I don't believe you," my husband pressed.
"Is that why you came here? To throw false accusations?"
"What else?"
"I thought your father had accepted my boss's offer."
"We know your boss is a woman," I clarified.
"No, Mrs. Koroleva, not anymore."
"What was the offer?" R insisted.
"It was sent yesterday. If you hand over Cheng, we might be able to renegotiate some of the routes. Mr. Guo is willing to consider it if you return his daughter."
"We don't have Cheng! She escaped."
"That's what your father said yesterday, but someone must have her because her disappearance is impossible," he clicked his tongue. "Maybe one of your men is holding her to gain credit in your organization."
"I repeat, no. Perhaps one of your men is helping her."
"Nobody would dare to provoke Mr. Guo's wrath."
"Is that why you attacked us tonight?" R pressed, swiftly drawing his gun to aim at the Chinese man's forehead. Immediately, everyone else's weapons found refuge in their hands.
"I'm not stupid, Mr. Capuleto. If I had done that, I wouldn't have let you pass."
"Well, you'll have to tell me who is behind this." Huang shrugged with complete tranquility.
"All I know is that if you kill me today, you will still not have your culprit because it wasn't us."
He said it with such vehemence that it was clear to me that Yuri was behind it. R must have believed the Chinese because he lowered the weapon and glanced at me sideways, seeking affirmation that I thought the same as him. I nodded, and he returned his gaze to Huang.
"We're leaving, thank you for your hospitality and your answers."
"Not so fast," he stopped him. "What about Cheng?"
"The same as you about who attacked us tonight, we have no idea, but if we find her, I guarantee we will return her to her father without blinking. You can convey that to Guo."
"Is it a deal?" Huang questioned, extending his hand.
"It's a deal."